


Bromsted High

by hopingforaword



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Thea And Hanschen Are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforaword/pseuds/hopingforaword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were two facts of life at Bromsted High.</p><p>One:</p><p>Everyone had a Hänschen Rilow phase or a Melchior Gabor phase.</p><p>Two:</p><p>Hänschen Rilow and Melchior Gabor hated each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never Say Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Melchior went out, he was looking for love. Hänschen didn’t believe in love.

There were two facts of life at Bromsted High.

One:

Everyone had a Hänschen Rilow phase or a Melchior Gabor phase.

Two:

Hänschen Rilow and Melchior Gabor hated each other.

 

Hänschen and Melchior were in some ways almost identical. They were both tall, smart (perpetually competing for the top spot in their class), opinionated, full of attitude, and incredibly attractive. They both had best friends that were easily manipulated, they both had control issues, and they were both bisexual.

There, they would both say, their similarities ended.

In most ways, the boys were as different as day and night. Melchior’s handsomeness came from how laid back he looked. His dark brown hair was almost always mussed, his smile was a little crooked, and he always wore t-shirts and track pants to school. Hänschen’s handsomeness was more refined. His blonde hair was neatly combed, his smirk was even, and he wore a combination of dark button downs and dark skinny jeans. Melchior was openly opinionated, perpetually talking back to teachers and landing himself in detention for one reason or another. (Once on a bet, Melchior had managed to get detention from every teacher he had. Eight hours of his life was definitely worth the hundred dollars Otto had given him.) Hänschen was a smooth talker around his teachers, a favorite student and a bit of a kiss ass, but snarky and rude to his classmates. When Melchior went out, he was looking for love. Hänschen didn’t believe in love.

 

The two boys spent a lot more time than they wanted to together. Melchior’s best friend Moritz and Hänchen’s best friend Ernst were very close, meaning that the two were constantly dragged to one hang out or another. One September night of their senior year, Melchior, Hänschen, Moritz, Ernst, Wendla, Ilse, Thea, and Martha were lounging in Martha’s living room. Her parents were gone for the weekend and the whole gang was sleeping over. “Do you guys want to play never have I ever?” asked Wendla. Hänschen snorted but everyone else nodded. They rearranged into a circle on the floor, Hänschen still reclining on Martha’s couch.

“Aren’t you going to play Hänschen?” asked Ernst, tapping the space next to him.

Hänschen snorted again. “Like I’m going to play never have I ever with my little sister in the room.”

Thea laughed. “Hänsi, wouldn’t you rather I get the truth from you than lies from the rumor mill?”

Hänschen snorted again, but gracefully made his way over to Ernst’s side, putting his head down in Ernst’s lap and lying down on the carpet. 

“Who’s going to start?” said Ernst, absently running his fingers through Hänschen’s hair. 

“Let Hänschen,” Melchior said, smirking, “He’s gonna lose, so we might as well let him start.”

Without sitting up, Hänschen raised his arm straight up and stuck his middle finger at Melchior. Melchior smirked. “All right,” said Hanschen, “Never have I ever slept with Ilse.”

Moritz and Wendla clapped and each put a finger down. 

“Never have I ever made out with a boy,” Martha said. Everyone else clapped and put a finger down.

“Who Thea?” said Hänschen, sounding more like an older brother than he would’ve cared to admit.

“It’s none of your business,” Thea laughed, “I’m allowed to have secrets too. Never have I ever given a blow job.” Hänschen, Wendla, Melchior, Moritz, and Ernst all clapped.

Melchior looked coldly at Hänschen and said, “Never have I ever slept with someone whose last name I didn’t know.” When Hänschen didn’t clap, Melchior prodded, “Hänsi, what about that Julie girl?”

Hänschen turned his head slowly to look at Melchior. “One, fuck you Gabor. Two, don’t ever call me Hänsi again.” He looked back up at the ceiling and clapped.

“Never have I ever been on a sports team,” said Moritz. Melchior and Martha clapped.

“Never have I ever received a blow job,” said Ilse, smirking. All four boys turned to her, outraged.

“That’s not fair!” shouted Melchior.

“Ils, you can’t have,” whined Moritz.

“Biology isn’t our fault,” pouted Ernst.

“How is it  _ my _ fault that people want to blow me?” Hänschen asked sarcastically.

“I’m not changing it,” said Ilse, repressing laughter.

All four boys huffily clapped and frantically thought about things they hadn’t done that Ilse was sure to have done.

“Never have I ever bought lube,” said Wendla. Hänschen and Melchior clapped.

“Never have I ever slept with Moritz,” said Ernst. Ilse clapped and Hänschen, forgetting about Melchior’s presence in the room, clapped too.

“What?” 

Melchior’s roar crashed onto Hänschen’s ears. Hänschen sat up, facing a red-faced Melchior across the carpet. “You did what Rilow?”

Hänschen smirked. “I fucked your best friend Gabor. Just ask him.”

Melchior turned to Moritz, who was looking at the floor and leaning into Ilse. “Moritz?”

“Yes Melchior?” Moritz squeaked, still looking at the floor.

“Did you sleep with Hänschen?” 

Moritz nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“Why?” Melchior looked like he was about to explode.

“It was fun,” Moritz whispered and Melchior made a little squeaking noise before turning to face Hänschen.

“That’s okay,” said Melchior, settling back down, an evil glint in his eye, “Because I slept with Ernst.”

Ernst’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head as Hänschen turned to him.

“Did he Ernst?”

Ernst nodded, unable to lie or speak. Hänschen took a few deep breaths, steadying himself before––

WHAM.

Melchior’s back hit the floor before anyone registered that Hänschen had gotten up. He sat on Melchior, throwing punch after punch as Melchior dodged quickly. “You’re such an ass Gabor!” screamed Hänschen, punctuating each word with an attempted punch.

“BOYS!” screamed Martha and all movement stopped. Martha  _ never _ raised her voice. “Outside! If my parents find blood on my carpet they’ll kill me.”

Hänschen huffily got up and stalked to the exit. Melchior stood and brushed himself off before saying, “I’ll go talk to him.” He followed Hänschen out.

When Melchior got outside, Hänschen was sitting on Martha’s porch railing, smoking a cigarette and looking out into the distance. 

“Those things’ll kill you.” Melchior kept his distance, still standing just outside the front door.

“I know Gabor. I’m trying to quit.” Hänschen put it out with his fingers and threw it into the garden.

“Why’d you get so mad?”

“Leave me alone Gabor.”

“Don’t you think I wish I could? If I go back in there without you Wendla and Ernst are going to rip my head off.”

There was silence. Hänschen had still not looked at Melchior.

“Why’d you––”

“Because I was saving him alright Gabor?”

“You can’t save people.”

Hänschen turned to face Melchior for the first time, and Melchior thought he saw tear tracks on Hänschen’s cheeks. “Leave me alone Melchior.”

Instead, Melchior walked over to the railing and sat down on the other end, facing Hänschen. “What do you mean saving him?”

Hänschen sighed and rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly think I never wanted to? I mean with his cute face and his messed up hair and his ass––But I didn’t want to be his first.”

Melchior raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been plenty of other people’s firsts.” He laughed until he saw the murderous look on Hänschen’s face.

“I didn’t care about those people. Ernst is my best friend. I don’t want to be his first and him to be my thirty-somethingth.”

Melchior blinked. “You’ve slept with more than thirty people?”

Hänschen shrugged. “Something like that.”

Melchior shook his head, confused. “I don’t understand. Now you can sleep with Ernst and not be his first. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that his first was you.”

“Who cares if it was me? Are you saying he deserves better?” Hänschen shrugged. “Because we might not like each other Rilow but I certainly have a cute face and messed up hair and a nice ass and––”

Melchior was cut off by the presence of Hänschen’s lips on his own. Hänschen pulled back and said, “I know.”

Melchior furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Hänschen. “Really?”

Hänschen nodded. “Everyone likes one of us right? And most people like both.”

Melchior laughed. “Well we’re likeable.”

“Maybe not likeable,” Hänschen said, rolling his eyes, “But definitely fuckable.”

Melchior laughed and said, “Come here.” Hänschen obliged and leaned towards Melchior. The second kiss was better because they were both expecting it. Hänschen ran his fingers through Melchior’s curly brown hair and Melchior tangled his hands in Hänschen’s silky blonde hair. Hänschen tried to push his tongue between Melchior’s lips, but Melchior leaned back. “We should get inside. Wendla probably thinks we’ve killed each other by now.” 

Hänschen laughed and the two boys went inside.


	2. Up on the Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melchior thought for some time it was to try to make Hänschen jealous. Hänschen knew it was because, after spending most of his time as an artist, Ernst wanted to be the art.

The game stopped when the boys returned. Wendla said, "If we keep playing these two are going to murder each other," to which everyone agreed. Martha started babbling about prom while Hänschen and Melchior resumed their seats next to their best friends, purposefully not looking at each other. Ernst continued to stroke Hänschen's hair and Moritz leaned into Melchior's shoulder and everything seemed to return to normal. 

Around midnight the girls left to change. Hänschen and Melchior had both jokingly protested. "We're all friends!" Hänschen laughed. 

"Yeah," said Melchior, "And good friends can get changed around other good friends." Ilse cocked an eyebrow and Wendla just laughed. 

"Nice try," said Martha, "We'll be back."

The girls left and Ernst, Moritz, and Melchior started to change into their pajamas. "You changing Hänschen?" Ernst asked timidly. 

Hänschen stood up and brushed himself off. "I'm going up to the roof. Y'all are welcome to join me."

He started walking towards the door. "Wait!" Moritz's voice was full of panic. "Martha's dad doesn't like when we go on the roof."

Hänschen turned around to face Moritz, his hand still on the doorknob. "Moritz, people's dads generally don't like me." He flung the door open and walked out. 

September was clinging desperately to summer that year, so even at midnight Martha's roof was comfortable and warm. Hänschen was sitting near the edge, his feet almost dangling off the roof, when Melchior climbed up. 

"Just you Gabor?" Hänschen asked without turning his head. 

"Yeah," said Melchior. "Ernst is afraid of falling and Moritz is afraid of getting caught."

Hänschen snorted. "What a bunch of babies."

Melchior sat next to Hänschen. "Maybe. But everyone's afraid of something."

"Oh yeah?" Hänschen was very carefully not leaning into Melchior. "What are you afraid of?"

"Being alone."

"I didn't think you'd actually say—"

"What about you?"

Hänschen thought about lying but said, "You."

Melchior blinked. "Why?"

Hänschen tried to explain, moving his hands but when he realized he didn't have the words to describe what he meant, he pulled Melchior into a kiss. 

Hänschen quickly pulled away and said, "That's why," looking as though he believed he had just wrapped up an airtight argument. 

"You're afraid of me because you've kissed me three times?" 

"No you idiot," said Hänschen, turning away to look over the dark city. "I'm afraid of you because I want to kiss you and you don't want to kiss me."

"In case you forgot, I kissed you on the porch."

"And," said Hänschen as though Melchior had not spoken, "We are too different from each other. We would destroy each other."

"We're not that different," Melchior mused, "We're both smart and bi and opinionated and good looking." Hänschen half-smiled at the compliment. "What do you mean we'd destroy each other?"

"If we... whatever it would only be an exercise in narcissism. We'd be doing it for the things we like about ourselves. We're like two supernovas Melchior. And if we crash into each other, we'll explode."

Melchior's face spread into a huge grin. "Maybe explosions can be fun."

"Shut up Gabor."

"Make me."

Hänschen cocked an eyebrow before leaning in to kiss Melchior again. Melchior grabbed Hänschen's neck, pulling him closer, and Hänschen tangled his fingers in Melchior's hair. Hänschen pushed Melchior's lips apart and was moving his tongue into the other boy's mouth when Melchior's phone rang. 

"Am I ever going to get my tongue in your mouth Gabor?" 

Melchior smirked. "If you stay on your best behavior." He answered the phone. "Hi Thea! I'm outside with Hänschen. He needed a smoke." Hänschen heard his sister's audible sigh on the other end. "We'll be right in. Okay. Bye."

"My sister is obsessed with you."

"Seems like it runs in the family," Melchior said, starting the descent back into his house. 

"Hey fuck you."

Melchior smiled up at Hänschen. "All in due time Hänsi."

Hänschen’s face  got very red as he followed Melchior back into Martha’s house. They walked into the living room, Hänschen still in his day clothes. “Where were you?” shouted Martha, “Don’t tell me you were on the roof.”

Hänschen sat down on Martha’s couch, not saying anything. He was afraid if he said anything he would just start laughing or babbling and nothing would make any sense, so Melchior spoke for them both. “Okay.”

Melchior sat down next to Hänschen and Wendla raised an eyebrow. “That’s not an answer.”

“Martha said, ‘Don’t tell me you were on the roof.’ So we’re not going to tell her if we were on the roof.”

“But–” 

“Just drop it,” said Hänschen, his voice uncharacteristically low and dark, so Wendla dropped it.

“What now?” said Ernst, coming into the conversation to fulfill his perpetual role as breaker of the awkward tensions Hänschen seemed to create wherever he went. Hänschen, instead of apologizing (which no one expected anyway), closed his eyes and leaned into the arm of the couch, his head lolling off his neck, making him appear asleep.

Ilse yawned and looked pointedly at Moritz, who also yawned. “I’m tired,” said Ilse, “I think I’m going to bed.” She stood up and walked towards Martha’s spare bedroom, where Ilse always slept because Ilse’s back problems meant she needed to sleep on a mattress of some kind. Moritz, being clueless, sweet Moritz, immediately followed her.

“Moritz?” Melchior half-snapped, half-laughed.

Moritz turned around like an obedient puppy being called by his owner. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“The boys sleep in the living room.”

Moritz stuttered, and everyone but Hänschen barely held back laughter. Moritz was never good at lying and always got stuck in his lies. “I-I-I know but–”

“Will you stop torturing the poor boy and let him go screw his girlfriend?” Hänschen never spoke up for Moritz and so everyone in the room, including Melchior who was sitting right next to Hänschen on the couch, would’ve sworn he hadn’t said it if they hadn’t seen his mouth move in time with the words. Moritz mouthed a thanks at Hänschen, whose eyes were now open and who nodded slightly at Moritz before he rushed out of the room to follow Ilse.

“If they’re loud I swear to God–” said Wendla.

“Let’s go makeover Ernst!” squealed Thea. It was her favorite pastime since Thea, unlike the rest of the friends, hadn’t totally discovered the intoxicating effects of having someone touch you. Ernst agreed to this every time. Melchior thought for some time it was to try to make Hänschen jealous. Hänschen knew it was because, after spending most of his time as an artist, Ernst wanted to be the art. Thea pulled Ernst to his feet and Martha and Wendla followed the two of them out of the room, leaving Melchior and Hänschen alone on the couch. 

The tension in the room was palpable. Hänschen did not speak as he turned to face Melchior. He leaned forward before shaking his head and leaning back. Melchior looked disappointed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No just….not here.”

Hänschen stood abruptly and Melchior followed  back up to the roof. Hänschen sat on the edge again, but Melchior pulled him back slightly back, sitting down next to him. Too close, Hänschen would have said a few hours ago, but now was now. Everything was different. Everything was always different.

Hänschen turned to Melchior and kissed him quickly before Melchior said, “Isn’t it weird that it’s more private up here than in the walled up living room?”

Hänschen shook his head. “There’s all this comfort in darkness. It could swallow you up and no one would ever know. Why do you think so many girls ask to turn off the lights? In the dark you can pretend that it’s a secret thing, that no one will ever know.”

Melchior nodded. “It’s just like that.” And then he leaned into Hänschen.

Finally, finally, finally, Hänschen got his wish. His hot tongue filled Melchior’s mouth and Melchior groaned. Melchior’s noise only increased Hänschen’s desire and in a second that Melchior barely registered Melchior was on his back and Hänschen was straddling him. “Never expected you to be the submissive type,” Hänschen breathed into Melchior’s neck, “Can’t say I don’t like it though.” Before Melchior could respond, Hänschen was sucking the air out of Melchior’s lungs and Melchior was trying to pull the air out of Hänschen. Hänschen moved down to the base of Melchior’s neck, looking for a spot he know all guys had on their neck–a spot that made electricity shoot up the spines of any boy.

“Only for you Hänsi,” said Melchior.  
“What?”

“I’m only like this for you.”

Hänschen sat up and looked at stared, long and hard into Melchior’s blue eyes. He saw the truth in them, and nodded. Melchior was filled with electricity as Hänschen found his spot and Melchior dug his nails into Hänschen’s silky button down and prayed that it would vanish of its own accord and the two boys thought of nothing but the circuit they had created, the lips melting into lips and hands melting into skin as they hid themselves in the darkness of the mid-September night.

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me at hopingforaword.tumblr.com with prompts/ideas/comments. Thanks for reading!


End file.
